<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>To Be Anything Else by LipFreckles5</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25465279">To Be Anything Else</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/LipFreckles5/pseuds/LipFreckles5'>LipFreckles5</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Shameless (US)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Best Friends, Best Friends in Love, GW2020, Gallavich Week 2020, Light Angst, M/M, Mickey just wants to kiss Ian, Mutual Pining, Season 3, Soft Boys, Takes place after the alley scene in S3, They fell in love during that scene damn it, but he doesnt think he can, i'm sad now</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 10:53:04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,799</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25465279</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/LipFreckles5/pseuds/LipFreckles5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Mickey never had a best friend. At least one he could remember. Maybe Mandy, fuck or his cousin Sandy were the closest he has ever gotten to having one but even then they didn’t know his secrets. They didn’t know he preferred barbecue Pringles over sour cream and  onion. Or how his favorite gun was his Rugar but Ian did. Ian knew all of that and fucking more. He had this way of getting Mickey to tell him things and sometimes Mickey wanted to say more but couldn’t and Ian understood that. He always understood. </p>
<p>Or in which Mickey Milkovich thinks he can only ever be Ian Gallagher's best friend</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>111</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>To Be Anything Else</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I wrote this on a whim for Gallavich Week 2020. I was wrapped up in Gallavich feels so I thought "Why the hell not?" </p>
<p>Thank you Kait for looking over this. :) </p>
<p>Enjoy &lt;3</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Ian Gallagher is chasing him down an alley and for the first time in his life Mickey felt <em>free. </em></p>
<p>He forgets for a moment where he is. Out running through an alley way, somewhere on the Northside, a wide giddy smile spread across his face, his heart thumping wildly in his chest, obviously from all the running he was doing and not because a tall, freckly, gangly boy was chasing him. Their laughter melting into the hot summer air. They cross the street; a car blares his horn as the driver almost hits them, but they don’t care. They just keep running, smiling, and laughing.</p>
<p>Mickey slows down. His lungs hurt from the laughing and the running. Fuck even his cheeks hurt. They may even be a little burnt already from the full hour he had been standing in the sun. Waiting and watching to see if the geriatric fuck face would do anything that deserved a broken wrist.  He presses his back against a wall. The shaded brick cooling him only slightly. He feels dizzy, blissfully dizzy, like he’s drunk but he only sipped on that one can of beer while watching Ian with that old fuck. So that couldn’t be what was making him feel so unsteady. </p>
<p>Maybe it was the heat, maybe it was the way his heart was painfully thudding against his ribcage, his lungs sore as they fought for air that wasn’t so dry. Maybe it was something else, something that used to be entirely foreign to Mickey before hooking up with Gallagher. Ian is bent over, hands on his knees as he begins to catch his own breath. Mickey can see droplets of sweat running down the younger boy’s face.</p>
<p>His heart rate continues to go at its above average pace as he steals a look at the redhead. His hair was shaved close to his head but the sun still radiated off the golden copper Mickey could never seemed to tear his eyes off of. It was shorter than he'd ever seen on the dude. He kinda missed the longer hair. He would never admit it but his hands twitched sometimes if he looked at Gallagher’s hair for too long. As if they were itching to run tatted fingers through the fiery locks but like everything else he felt when he was in the presence of Ian Gallagher he swallowed it down.</p>
<p>Gallagher is wearing a deep blue collared shirt Mickey had never seen him wear before. It looked good with his copper hair, his green eyes.</p>
<p>Mickey wanted to fucking kick himself for knowing what color Gallagher’s eyes were but he did. Not that he was looking. He just so happened to lock eyes with him one day. Maybe it was the day Mickey told Gallagher he was nothing but a warm mouth to him. How his heart felt heavy, lead dropping into the ocean as he watched Gallagher’s very green eyes glistening with the threat of fucking tears. Ian Gallagher was trying not to cry over him.</p>
<p>He wanted to take it back then. Tell the guy he didn’t mean it but of course fear had won. Fear of his <em>father</em> had won out and Mickey could only hope Ian forgave him. He couldn’t ask Ian if he did. He couldn’t say he didn’t mean it because if he did who knows the fuck else he might say. Saying stupid shit like how much he wished they were still chasing each other through a fucking alley would surely get Mickey killed.</p>
<p>He hears a kid roll by on his skateboard. Staring straight ahead but that doesn’t stop Mickey's blood from going from hot to iced over. The familiar feeling of panic wrapped tightly around his chest at what they had just done hit him. Someone, anyone, could have seen the cold, hard exterior Mickey Milkovich had tried so hard to build around him since he was nine years old and his dad said he couldn’t color flowers with Mandy because coloring and flowers were for <em>fags,</em> melts away entirely as he smiled, laughed, ran with Ian Gallagher.</p>
<p>And somehow, maybe it was the blistering hot sun getting to his head, maybe it was the way Ian was now looking at him, a playful glint in his eye to compliment his shy smile, that had Mickey instantly relaxing. Gallagher had that way about him. He made things easier but also complicated.</p>
<p>It had to be the scorching sun because as they locked eyes, breathless smile to breathless smile, Mickey wanted nothing more than to be pulled in close—close enough to where their sweaty bodies met and—</p>
<p>No, he couldn’t say it. Even if he allowed himself to think about it, which he never did. Only once but it had been after a dream he had. That was the only time he thought about kissing Ian Gallagher he swears.</p>
<p>“Fuck you and your fucking ninja hands.” He heard himself say before he could stop himself. It came out gruffly. His throat stung a little. He reached his hand up to touch where Ian had swatted at him moments ago.</p>
<p>Ian steps closer to him but not too close. Maybe a foot apart nothing more. Mickey doesn’t think he could handle being that close right now. Maybe if they were in the freezer of the Kash N Grab or maybe in the dark at the dugouts but not while some lady just walked by with her fucking prissy rat dog.</p>
<p>“Wouldn’t of had to do that if you would of just stopped beating the shit out of  Ned.” Ian shrugged like it was the most obvious thing in the world then tilting his head to the side. Eyes wide like the fucking annoying ass puppy he was.</p>
<p>Mickey wanted to ask Ian what the hell he was doing with the old fuck anyways. He could do so much better, he didn’t need a fucking predator with his old wrinkly hands all over him. That’s all that guy was. A fucking predator. Mickey knew the fucker didn’t give a damn about Ian. What the hell did Ian see in him anyways?</p>
<p>Mickey wanted to ask. The question was bubbling in his chest, almost on the tip of his tongue but he swallowed it down. It didn’t matter anyways. At least that’s what he was going to continue to tell himself.</p>
<p>“Fucker was saying stupid shit,” Mickey mumbled, picking off a piece of lint from his old, dirty jeans.</p>
<p>He ignored the way his heart flipped at the sound of Ian’s chuckle. Ignored the way his skin fucking buzzed. The sound of Ian’s laugh did things to Mickey that he could never quite explain. He liked it but that too was on the long list of things he would never say out loud.</p>
<p>They stood there in silence. Waiting until their heart rates were slightly back to normal before Ian asked, “Wanna get out of here?”</p>
<p>A part of Mickey wished they would find a more discreet place. Somewhere where Ian could place his hands around his hips, somewhere where Mickey could be pressed up against him. A place where Ian’s whispers could tickle Mickey’s ear.</p>
<p>But by the looks of it they were not on the same wavelength because Ian began walking towards the nearby park.</p>
<p>Since it was one of the hottest days they would be having this summer it wasn’t too crowded. Some little rugrat was learning how to ride her bike. Her dad cautiously following her. Some chick was doing that bendy shit… what was it called? Yoga? Then there was the two guys holding hands as they casually walked passed Ian and Mickey.</p>
<p>It shouldn’t bother him and it doesn’t. Not in a way where his brain was wired to not like it. No, it was the way the redhead next to him got that longing look in his eye as they passed them that bothered him. Like they could be anything like them one day.</p>
<p>They couldn’t, Mickey told himself. He couldn’t even allow himself to think about kissing the guy, which he had only done once before because that would lead to other things… Other things like…</p>
<p>Love.</p>
<p>And there was no way, no way in hell Mickey could ever feel that way towards another man. He couldn’t unless he had a death wish.</p>
<p>Maybe he had a death wish though because Mickey knew deep, deep down in his core...he was lying. He was fucking lying.</p>
<p>When he grabbed Ian back in the deserted alley way by his neck. The way he pulled him close, so fucking close there was no denying there was a fleeting moment. A blink-and-you-miss-it moment where Mickey was thinking about pressing his lips to Ian’s.</p>
<p>Then when Ian wrapped his long, strong arms around him. Sprinkled with freckles, freckles that Mickey couldn’t help but to look at sometimes, the feeling of wanting to kiss the younger boy was even greater.</p>
<p>It scared the hell outta Mickey but that was what Ian did to him. He scared Mickey in the most glorious way. The way one feels when they set off a firecracker a little too close for comfort, where one can feel the boom in their chest, and how it rattles them to the core but they can't tear their eyes away from the brilliant colors that explode against the darkness. Beautiful, mesmerizing, with a strong mix of terrifying.</p>
<p>Maybe that’s why he turned away and ran. Maybe his lungs filled with laughter and excitement because of the maybe and the what if...What if Ian grabbed Mickey by the waist then turned around and kissed him? Would have Mickey let him?</p>
<p>Much to Mickey’s dismay he thought yes and wrote it down mentally to add to the ever growing list of things he would never say out loud because they could never be anything else but two boys chasing each other down alley ways and fucking in the dark.</p>
<p>“Why did you come here anyways?” Ian asked.</p>
<p>They stopped by a large oak tree at this point. Big enough where they could both sit up against it comfortably. Close but not too close. Close enough for Mickey to smell the sweat and Axe body spray coming off of Ian. Mickey couldn’t say it was his favorite. Smelling too much like the ninth grade boys locker room. Mickey wondered if Gallagher looked the way he looked and smelled the way he smelled because he wanted to impress Ned. It made Mickey roll his eyes and take out his smokes from his left pocket. Ian didn’t have to do that with him.</p>
<p>“Was in the neighborhood,” Mickey replied simply, ighting his cigarette and taking a long drag, blowing the smoke towards the late afternoon sky. He cocked his eyebrow at Ian who was studying him. His eyes scrunched in disbelief as Mickey handed him the cigarette, a thousand microscopic sparks transferring from Ians long fingers to Mickey's tatted ones.</p>
<p>“In the neighborhood huh?” nodded Ian, taking a drag himself all while staring Mickey down inquisitively.</p>
<p>Mickey shrugged. “Had to collect some money for my dad.” He ignored the way his cheeks seemed to be burning. Maybe Ian would still think it was from the heat.</p>
<p>“Your Dad's clientele is getting expensive.”</p>
<p>“Fuck you,” scoffed Mickey, stealing the cigarette back from Ian. <em>More sparks.</em> “I don’t know what else to tell ya man.”</p>
<p>He locks eyes with Ian again, then traveled back down to Ian’s lips where the corner of his mouth was turning into a teasing, all knowing smirk. Like Mickey was completely readable to him.</p>
<p>“I don’t need a body guard Mick, I can take care of myself.” His eyes are soft, making Mickey’s stomach flutter.</p>
<p>“Don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about Gallagher.” Mickey takes another drag hoping Ian doesn’t notices the stammer in his voice. He probably did. The ginger fuck notices everything.</p>
<p>They dive back into a laspe of silence, finishing the shared cigarette and starting another one. They watch as the girl doing her bendy shit grabs her water bottle and leaves. The dad and his little brat walk happily out of the park, the girl holding her bike as they did so. The hand-holding couple long gone. It was just them under the shade tree that provided a nice breeze as the minutes passed by.</p>
<p>“Did I ever tell you that my mom took me to a gay bar?”</p>
<p>Mickey stilled. He had seen Ian’s mom a handful of times. According to his dad she was batshit crazy and left Gallagher and the rest of his siblings to fend for themselves. Which seemed to be the norm for moms on the Southside.</p>
<p>Fuck, his own mom up and left. At least Monica came back.</p>
<p>Mickey remembered when he came back from Juvie a few weeks ago. After Gallagher and him had their fun under the bleachers Mickey led the younger boy to his favorite spot for target practice. Mickey couldn’t figure out what compelled him to take Ian there. He never took anyone else there but his heart led the way and Gallagher simply followed.</p>
<p>It was there Ian told Mickey Monica had cut herself at Thanksgiving. Where he told Mickey that he wondered if it was his fault and <em>why couldn’t she just be a better mom</em>. <em>Why couldn’t she just be there and stay.</em></p>
<p>He felt that deep in his bones. Another thing to add to the list of things he'd never say out loud.</p>
<p>He hated the broken look on Ian’s face. He remembered his heart clenching in his chest, remembered his hands twitching to reach out and do <em>something</em> to comfort the distraught redhead but he didn’t. He <em>couldn’t </em>but he could listen and that seemed to be enough for Ian.</p>
<p>Despite all of that, who the fuck takes their underage kid to a gay bar? Mickey wondered but just said, “Oh yeah? And the fuck did she do that for?”</p>
<p>Ian shrugged. “Thought it would be fun. Said it would help take my mind off things.”</p>
<p>Mickey wanted to ask what exactly Ian was trying to get his mind off of but refrained. “Sounds like a weird thing for a mom to do.”</p>
<p>Ian laughed and Mickey’s heart did its annoying fluttering thing at the sound.</p>
<p> “Monica is anything but normal.”</p>
<p>“I can see the resemblance.”</p>
<p>Ian elbowed him playfully and Mickey elbowed him back. It was when Ian reached out to grabbed him, hand on Mickey’s waist as Mickey froze,  his heart thumping with panic. Their noses barely touching. Mickey could see the gold flecks in Ian’s eyes. His hot breath dancing on Mickey’s lips. Mickey pulled back, not as hastily as he should have but enough to create the distance they were at before. Hating himself for doing so but he couldn’t. If he did…anything he’d been thinking about for the past several months he wasn’t sure he would be able to stop. Then he would be dead.</p>
<p> Ian smiled at him with understanding eyes and it made Mickey squirm.</p>
<p>“Ya know,” Ian finally said after yet another stretch of silence, this one more uncomfortable than the last, “I used to tell Lip everything but…lately I’ve been telling you more than I ever did with him.”</p>
<p>Mickey only nodded not quite sure where the redhead was going with this.</p>
<p>“It's like you’re more of my best friend now than he is.”</p>
<p>
  <em>Best friend</em>
</p>
<p>Mickey never had a best friend. At least one he could remember. Maybe Mandy, fuck or his cousin Sandy were the closest he has ever gotten to having one but even then they didn’t know his secrets. They didn’t know he preferred barbecue Pringles over sour cream and  onion. Or how his favorite gun was his Rugar but Ian did. Ian knew all of that and fucking more. He had this way of getting Mickey to tell him things and sometimes Mickey wanted to say more but couldn’t and Ian understood that. He always understood.</p>
<p>He could be Ian’s best friend. He knew Ian wanted more than that and in a perfect world they could be more but the world wasn't perfect so they couldn’t. It wasn’t possible if Mickey wanted to remain above six feet under. All they would ever have were empty alley ways, filled with laughter and freedom—nothing more.</p>
<p>Mickey smiled at the memory that took place not even two hours ago. He looked over at Ian who was grinning back at him, like they were both thinking the same thing. Maybe they were.</p>
<p>Yes. He could be Ian Gallagher’s best friend and Ian could be his. If Mickey couldn’t be anything else, he could at least be that.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Amazing to think that they are HUSBANDS now :') </p>
<p>Hope you all enjoyed. Leave a kudo or a comment!</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>